He was always mischievous, always laughing, always playing pranks, always annoying someone or the other.
I have know him enough to know when he was lying, when he was hurt, when he was a complete, utter crock of shit.
And he was lying right now but I still couldn't do anything about that.
I knew him, curse me I did. And sometimes, I really wished I didn't.
I wished I hadn't seen him kissing his mother bye on out first day of primary school. He had been tiny then- compared to his 6'3 muscular build of a giant now - cute voice, green eyes, brown hair and an attitude of a boy who could make anyone do anything.
Like when he just didn't want to attend classes with Mrs. Frey in high school and just straight up asked her to go out with him and have sex. Of course, she didn't and of course he really hadn't cared enough for her answer because he got what he wanted - a week long rustication.
He returned back completely happy and new and not looking bothered or desolate as he was for two weeks because of his sudden onslaught of depression. He had those episodes since middle school, got lost in his mind for days and needed to just be way from everyone, alone and being a lazy butt in his bed.
It did wonders to give him energy to continue again and I have always supported him. Now, I wish I didn't know this.
I wish I hadn't taken a bully's fist for him during lunch in elementary. He clung to me from then, sitting at my table in lunch, finding me before and after school. He just won't leave, never going away, always following! So annoying!
I wish I hadn't failed my middle school class deliberately to be with him because he had cried about always being bullied, always being lonely, about needing one friend to be with him.
I wish I hadn't chosen to be his support system, be his best friend, be his to-go for everything.
I wish I hadn't had to see him cry over his first breakup, hadn't held him all night as he cried, hadn't gotten him out of that bar-fight with his ex's current flavor, hadn't stayed by his hospital bed after his alcohol poisoning.
I wish many things to not have done - to not have known his every favorite colour, or seen him everyday with a new fuck in his bed, or recognizing that childish gleam in his eyes when he got his first car, or the way he had looked completely content on our bonfire party, or had been given the jade pendant as a sign of our eternal friendship, but most of all I wished to not have fallen for him.
But here's the irony - I still would do all of it, every step of it, every day of it. Regardless of my regrets and his lies and cowardice, and my heartache, I will willing repeat everything. Live Every. Single. Moment. Again.
Sadly, I will.